Conversations With The Dead
by The Androgynous Alchemist
Summary: The previous night, Ed had left without a single word, just two notes addressed to Alphonse Elric and Roy Mustang.


**As always, I'm not perfect, even after reading and checking several times there may still be a mistake. If you do find one don't be too shy to point it out :)**

"I'm sorry it's been so long, I wish I could have come sooner."

It was quiet, deadly quiet, and Edward found himself standing alone in the cemetery of Risenbul, empty, just the way he liked it.

The blond wondered just how long it had been since he'd last stood at the foot of his mother's grave. Months? Years? It had to be, and he was disgusted with himself for allowing time to flow by so easily, even if he had been stressfully busy.

It only seemed like yesterday the casket had been embedded deep under the ground in the pouring rain, hammering down on the fragile earth and soaking a majority of its inhabitants. Ed could remember everything about that day, no matter how minor the detail or how many years had passed by since.

As the coffin had been lowered inch by inch, the alchemist's heart had shattered piece by piece, until eventually; there was nothing left to break.

Years had passed, and Edward had only lost more. On top of losing his mother and father, he'd lost his brothers entire body, and two of his own limbs, ripped clean from his body as if they hadn't been there at all.

More time had passed, and he lost his freedom, and his childhood had been cut dramatically short. Ed had become chained to the state, by an invisible leash firmly clamped around his neck. Invisible or not, it worked just the same. Each time he ventured out, he was eventually called back. If he refused, he would be dragged, and disciplined like a dog.

It was October, and recently the stress had been building up like a wall. As each day passed, the wall would grow bigger, and eventually, the blond would be concealed by a humongous shadow. Usually, Ed insisted he could handle pressure in any shape or form, stubbornly protesting that he did not need any help to lighten the load.

He was the FullMetal Alchemist, not Edward Elric anymore. The real Ed had vanished when he watched his mother die, slip away into unconsciousness while holding her slender hand. Any part of him that remained had vanished the night he had attempted the unthinkable, and disappeared along with his brother and limbs into the almighty gate of truth.

Day by day the missions had been piling up, Ed had become more and more exhausted, and the rare hours he'd spent resting had only gotten shorter. It had become a solid routine.

Wake up, office, mission, research, and sleep if he had the time or the patience.

Gradually, the weight of responsibility had become an impossible burden to carry alone. The shadows under his eyes had become more distinguished and dominant, the flare of passion ceased to burn in his brightly coloured golden eyes, and most worryingly of all, he hadn't the enthusiasm to bicker with the Colonel.

It has come as a shock to Roy when the blond didn't have the drive to retaliate.

Instead of yelling a string of insults at the top of his lungs like usual, Ed had merely looked the raven dead in the eyes, run a hand through his hair, and leave the office, as easily as that. Eventually, the Elric requested leave, and as he handed his messily written scrawl to Roy Mustang, he was sure it was not tiredness he felt, but the un-repairable damage to his pride.

Roy was as sincere as possible to the boy, and regretted being the person to decline his subordinate's desperate request. He couldn't let him leave for at least another month, subject to the Fuhrers adamant request.

Bradley couldn't care less if the Elric needed a break or not, it was of no concern to him. What he did care about however, was the progression of Ed's research on the stone. Unfortunately it would be at least another year until anyone discovered the truth behind Bradley's connection with the homunculus.

Alphonse had been sick with worry.

Ed was sure that if his brother had been able to sleep, he wouldn't have done from sheer concern. It was just like Al to put others before himself, despite the unfortunate circumstance he was in.

The previous night, Edward Elric had left without a single word, just two notes, one addressed to Alphonse Elric, and one to Roy Mustang.

Screw the rules.

Screw the punishment.

He needed this, for himself, and for his own mentality.

During the long train ride to the country, Ed had done a lot of thinking. He'd been able to think a lot clearer than he had done for a long time. The work and responsibility had been left back in Central, were it belonged, or so he hoped.

"A lot of things have changed..." the blond sighed, the rain dripping down his cheeks, catching in his delicate lashes like snowflakes. He sat beside his mother's tombstone on the damp grass, tracing the letters carved into the stone with his wet gloved fingers.

"Al says you'd be proud of me," Ed said dimly, a frown tugging at his lips, "He says the nicest things to make me feel better, after all I've done to him. I don't deserve it," he insisted, ignoring the twinge of guilt from his heart.

He hated to think about it, all of the mistake he and his brother had committed in the past, because it hurt.

When he thought of Al, it hurt, more than any physical wound he had received before.

Mentally, it crippled Ed. The smell of blood, the pained cries of his little brother, they haunted him in his sleep. The only dreams Edward ever had were nightmares, and they were always viscously real. Sometimes, the blond dreamt of nothing, and those were the best and rarest nights of all. Each and every moment he could forget, he cherished, more than anything in the world.

"He always says I have to take better care of myself, but I think it's a little late for that."

Resting on the wet ground was a colourful arrangement of flowers. A pair of golden eyes examined them carefully, following the twisting vines that laced together intricately.

"Made you some flowers... you always liked these ones the best. He-"

"He made them for you didn't he? That's why it used to make you so happy..."

Ed could already feel his temper beginning to flare, no matter how much he willed for it to disappear. He had no ounce of control over it, ever.

It was a beast that could not be tamed.

The thoughts drifting through his head were like daggers to the heart. Trisha had always had time to watch her adorable sons perform alchemy, no matter how busy she had been. When Ed and Al had been just boys, they had thought she was proud, and so they had become more and more egger to seek their mother's approval.

Perhaps she had been proud.

Over the years, the eldest Elric had come to a gradual realisation.

Trisha always used to remind Edward how much he inherited the looks of his father, dirty blond hair, a pair of rich golden eyes, the resemblance was unmistakable, and he hated it, always had done. The blond knew the real reason his mother had once adored his alchemy so much. It had reminded her of _him_, and it hurt to think about it, even after all those years.

"To be honest, I don't really know why I'm here... I thought-"

The words died on the tip of his tongue as a bolt of pain gnawed at his ports, the ever so familiar sensation of the weather teasing his nerves. It felt as if they were fraying like wires.

This was why FullMetal wasn't fond of the rain, and it was the reason it was very rare to find him wondering outside in a heavy shower. Like the Colonel, it was his handicap. Although it didn't render him completely useless, the irritating substance was far from helpful, and the pain was _very_ distracting.

"I thought... I'd feel better..." he laughed weakly, nursing the join of skin and metal bolted to his right shoulder, "Guess I was wrong... but that wouldn't be the first time would it?" /

'_I'll kill him,' _Roy thought irritably as he rubbed his temples, sinking back into his chair with an audible sigh.

Edward's insubordination was appalling, although hadn't it always been?

The blond was incredibly lucky that he was assigned to a Colonel that was so lenient. Fortunately for Ed, Mustang cut a lot of corners anyway, so covering for the Elric was rarely a problem.

The office was unusually silent, the air so thick you could slice it in two with a knife. The rain was beating hard against the glass like a pummelling fist, a sheet of ominous black clouds stretching far beyond the horizon.

A towering suit of armour occupied Edward's usual spot on the leather couch, a pair of deep red eyes watching the rain bleed effortlessly from the sky, watching... waiting.

Alphonse was worried, and more so than usual. It wasn't a rare occurrence for his brother to do something idiotic, it occurred on an almost regular basis. Despite the regularity, Al couldn't hide his concern from anyone. When Ed had left the previous afternoon for a 'trip to the library', he didn't return.

Sometimes, the teen liked to stroll the streets late in the evening when he had trouble sleeping, so Al hadn't been worried, until morning.

After he'd hurried to the office, he'd been greeted by Roy Mustang, both alchemists possessing identical notes in their hands, the only difference was the addressee written on the front.

'Will be back, Ed,' Mustang read again, running a hand through his hair in defeat. No location, no reason, just four words of Edward's messily written scrawl.

"You have no idea where he could have gone?"

"No..." Alphonse murmured quietly, "He's never pulled a stunt like this before... Do you think something happened? What if he's in trouble? He could be hurt!"

"Alphonse."

"Sorry Colonel, I'm just-"

"Worried, I know. Edwards like a dog; he'll come back when he's bored or hungry."

"Maybe I should look for him."

"The best thing you can do is wait."

"As much as I want to give him a grilling when he gets back, I wouldn't want to strip you of the privilege Colonel."

"Thank you Alphonse," the man smiled rather amused, "Perhaps this time one of my lectures might actually sink in."

Roy watched Al close the door quietly behind him, and turned swiftly back to the window, watching the droplets of water drip slowly down the glass pane.

He knew what it was like to want to desperately clear your head, and to want to forget everything for just a single day. After everything that had happened to Ed, Roy couldn't blame him for wanting to take a break, the teen deserved it, and there was no shame in wanting time away from his duties to the state.

The Colonel knew Ed hated asking for help, it was a notoriously bad habit of his, whether he was aware of it or not. It seemed the blond didn't understand that Roy wanted him to ask for help, he wanted to help him all that he could.

Disappearing definitely wasn't FullMetal's most inspiring decision in the world, but he could take care of himself.

'_I trust you,' _Roy thought, _'to come back when you're ready.' _/

"The truth is I- I don't know if I-" tears threatened to spill, welling in his large golden eyes, "I don't know if I can do this anymore!" he cried, a flow of tears cascading down his cheeks, mingling with the heavy rain.

"The stone... it might not even exist. I already promised him that I'd do it... get his body back..." the blond curled a fist, delivering a punch to the ground in despair, ignoring the stinging of his eyes, " I don't want to be the one to tell him he might be stuck this way forever... because it's all my fault."

Once the tears had struck, it was impossible for them to stop.

All of the grief the young alchemist had kept bottled up for the past few weeks came surging out through his tear ducts, and it felt surprisingly better. Unlike the tension in his muscles, the guilt was something that would forever remain with him. He'd grown accustomed to it.

In Ed's eyes, it was his punishment, an eternal one that would follow him to the grave along with his automail.

His crimson coat clung to the bulk of automail concealed in his thin sleeve, the intricate lines and bolts clearly visible through the wet fabric. He traced the lines with his fingers.

"I never told him... never told him I have no intention of getting my limbs back... it's probably impossible to get them and his body back as well."

Rising steadily to his feet, Edward pulled the state issued watch from his pocket and flipped it open, tracing the inside of the lid with his thumb. It was funny, funny how his intentions had changed so much from the start of his trip.

Instead of feeling magically refreshed and revitalised, he felt sore. His ports throbbed, his clothes were soaked through, it was viciously cold, and Ed was on the verge of being an emotional wreck, yet somehow he still felt much better.

"I feel like crap..." he smiled, shaking his long blond hair like a wet dog, grimacing as it clung to the back of his neck and his cheeks.

"I can't promise that I'll come back... I'm always doing stupid shit. But I promise that I'll try to be a good brother... or something like that."


End file.
